The Storm
by IMTheresa
Summary: A future fic, Sam is worried when Dean is late as a storm rages outside. While searching for him, Sam and John realize that normal things just don't happen to the Winchesters.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I made a wish on a shooting star AND when I blew the candles out on my birthday cake, but I still don't own anything Winchester. And, alas, I am still poor._

_A/N: This little bit of torture broke free of the writer's block I've been suffering. Thanks to Kelli, who has now moved to a new state with the hubby and kids but still found time to beta for me while unpacking boxes._

**The Storm**

**Chapter 1**

Sam stood at the window watching the storm outside. The thunder and lightning started almost an hour ago, the wind picked up, and now the rain was coming down in sheets. He glanced at the television when the special weather report interrupted the sit-com he hadn't really been watching. The storm was expected to intensify over the next couple of hours, the high winds were expected to cause problems, and tornadoes were possible. He rested a hand against the window frame and leaned forward. His brother was out there somewhere and Sam was worried.

After a moment longer, he turned from the window and grabbed his cell phone from the stand that separated the two double beds. He dialed Dean's number, although he knew if his brother could, he would have returned the five messages Sam had already left. He listened to the ringing on the other end and dutifully left another message when the voicemail kicked in.

Life had changed for the Winchesters since they killed the demon that all but destroyed their family when Sam was a baby. They were able to recover from their physical injuries, but the emotional ones would never truly heal. The brothers spent time recuperating with their father, trying to figure out what they wanted to do next. A simple job led to another and then another so they stayed together for a while, doing what they had done for nearly their whole lives – going from town to town hunting evil and helping innocent people.

Dean had known this wasn't the life Sam truly wanted and one night, after a few too many shots of Tequila, Dean brought up Sam going back to school. It didn't happen right away, but Sam did find his way back to Stanford. Dean went back to their father for a while, but found he couldn't stand being in the same place for too long, so he went returned to the hunt. Secretly, though, he was thankful for a home base.

John Winchester found that he was tired and had no more passion for hunting. He'd lost two of his best friends as part of the final battle and nearly lost his oldest son. Once he had time to process that, he came away feeling even more empty than before. He was proud of the work he and his sons had done, but felt guilty for sacrificing their childhoods for an empty revenge. In the end, he decided to stay a part of the world he'd lived in for so long; his role now would be advisor and teacher, but not a hunter.

At school, Sam had chosen to live alone. He had a few acquaintances that could eventually become friends, if he let them, but he generally kept to himself. He wanted to finish school, but he no longer had the overwhelming desire to have a normal life and he wasn't sure what he was going to do once he graduated. He occasionally had premonitions that he would tell Dean about and, more often than not, Dean was able to use them to save someone. He often spent his breaks from school helping Dean with hunts, though sometimes they chose to just spend time together or with their father.

With a six-week break from school, Sam arranged to meet Dean half way between Palo Alto and the small Oregon town where their father lived. His cabin was actually a fair distance from town, but not too far that he couldn't enjoy a daily meal or cup of coffee in the town's only diner. Sam wasn't sure where Dean was coming from, but he was almost two hours overdue and Sam didn't like not being able to get in touch with him.

OOOOoOOOOO

Sam jerked awake when a loud clap of thunder shook the room. It took barely a moment to realize where he was and he jumped again when his cell phone started to ring. He grabbed it without even looking at the caller ID.

"Dean?"

He was greeted only by static.

"Dean, is that you?" he moved the phone from his ear to look at the screen, verifying the call was coming from his brother. "Dean, I can't hear you."

Again, he heard static; though this time he could almost make out a voice on the other end. He was about to speak again when his phone beeped, indicating the call had been lost.

"Damnit." he grumbled, dialing his brother's number from memory. The call went straight to voicemail. Dropping the phone on the bed, he stood up; fingers laced behind his head, and paced around the room.

Chances were Dean was holed up somewhere with spotty cell coverage waiting for the storm to pass. That's what Sam wanted to believe, anyway. After pacing for another few minutes, Sam grabbed his phone from the bed and dialed John's number.

"Hi, Sam." John said warmly. "I see there's some nasty weather down your way. Are you and Dean all right?"

"You haven't heard from Dean, I guess."

"No. He's not with you?"

"He should have been here more than two hours ago, but the storm is really bad. I've left him some voicemails and he called a few minutes ago, but all I could hear was static."

"Don't worry, Sam. He probably got off the road to wait for the storm to pass."

"Yeah." Sam sat on the edge of his bed, running a hand through his hair. "So, you doin' okay?"

"I'm good. It'll be nice to have you and your brother here for a little while."

"Yeah, we're both looking forward to it." Sam glanced out of the window when he saw a flash of lightning.

"Sam, I can hear the worry in your voice."

"I can't help it, Dad. I don't like not being able to get in touch with Dean."

John smiled to himself. He'd made a lot of mistakes raising his sons, but he was proud of their relationship. Of course, he realized that they were probably so close because of his mistakes and not due to of any extraordinary parenting on his part, but it still warmed his heart.

"I know how you feel, Son, but I think it's a little early to be so worried. Dean can take care of himself and he likes that car too much to drive it in a bad storm."

Sam couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, you're right about that."

"Call me in an hour unless Dean calls before that. Let me know."

"Okay. Thanks, Dad."

"Everything okay?" she asked, pouring him another cup of coffee.

John glanced at the waitress. "Sam's worried; Dean is late getting to the motel."

"It's probably the storm. The radio said it was pretty bad down that way."

"That's what I told him."

"But that's not what you think." she said, knowingly.

John put a hand on hers. "It's probably just the storm."

Stella put her other hand on his. "And all this time I thought you could lie better than that."

Even after all this time, he was still sometimes surprised at how much at home this place felt. His plan was to live in a big city, somewhere he could be anonymous and go about his life unnoticed. He stopped here for the night on his way to that new life and never left. He had learned to trust his instincts over the years and they were telling him that he was home. His sons stayed with him for a while and now visited often. The townspeople were curious about their quiet new neighbor, but John did nothing to make them overly suspicious and even made a few friends.

Getting into his truck later, John thought what he'd said to Sam was true; Dean was probably waiting somewhere for the storm to pass. He had a nagging feeling, though, that something else was going on and though he didn't think it would do any good, but he pulled out his phone again and dialed Dean's number. The call went straight to voicemail.

OOOOoOOOOO

Sam spent the next few hours pacing and drinking bad coffee while the storm raged outside. He talked to his father several times and left countless more messages for Dean. He was scared; more scared than he wanted to admit. John kept reassuring him; pointing out how bad the cell coverage was in the area where they were and how the storm was probably interfering with it as well. He told Sam again how attached Dean was to his car, and how he wouldn't put it in danger to drive when the conditions were too bad. Sam heard all of that, he understood it and it all made sense, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

OOOOoOOOOO

In his cabin, John spent the night pretty much the same way Sam had, except his coffee was better. Dean would know that not being at the motel when he was expected would cause his family to worry about him. If nothing was wrong and he couldn't get through on his cell phone, he would have called from a land line. John was standing at the window, watching the sunrise, when his telephone rang.

"Sam?"

"The storm passed. I'm still getting his voicemail."

The tone of Sam's voice worried John and rubbed his face. "Okay. I'm going to get cleaned up and head down toward you –"

"Dad, you're at least four hours away. I can't sit around here and wait for another four hours. Do you know where Dean would have been coming from? I'll rent a car and head that way and we can meet –"

"That's a good idea, _if _you can promise me that you'll calm down and be careful behind the wheel. You're exhausted and hyped up on caffeine; I don't want to have to worry about you, too."

"I'll be fine. Now, do you know where he was coming from?"

Against his better judgment, John agreed to Sam's idea. He didn't know exactly where Dean was coming from, but he had a general idea. They agreed on a place to meet and promised to get in touch once an hour, by land line if necessary. Sam packed the few things not already in his duffle bag and left the motel. He didn't have much choice in rental cars, but was glad to get whatever he could. He didn't have much need for a car in Palo Alto and always took the bus to meet Dean for their trips to their father's house.

Before getting on the road, Sam called Dean's cell phone again. When it didn't go straight to voice mail, he had a momentary hope his brother would answer.

OOOOoOOOOO

Stella handed John a Thermos of coffee after he locked the box in the bed of his truck.

"Thanks." he smiled.

They walked to the driver side door, arm in arm. "Be careful, okay?" she smiled.

"I'm always careful. Don't worry."

She looked skeptical. "I know how you are about your boys."

John smirked. "They're not boys anymore. They haven't been for quite a while."

"Oh whatever." she laughed. "They'll always be your boys."

As he drove away, John glanced in the rearview mirror. Stella was standing on the porch of his cabin, watching him leave. He had never taken the time to truly define their relationship, but she was the first woman he had been interested in since his wife died nearly twenty-six years ago. Stella seemed fine with things the way they were; she never pressed him for a commitment or even indicated that she wanted one. He didn't think his sons had defined his relationship with her either, but it wasn't something they had yet to talk about.

John went around a curve and, no longer able to see the house in his rearview mirror, he turned his attention forward.

OOOOoOOOOO

As Sam drove east, he kept a keen eye out for the Impala on the side of the road. It was almost an hour before he reached the next town and he was just coming out of the only restaurant he found when his cell phone rang.

"Hi, Dad. I've got nothing."

"You doin' okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just worried." Sam leaned against his car. "I really don't like this."

"I know. To be honest, neither do I."

"Dad, what if he's hurt or something?"

"Don't think that way, Sam."

"But this isn't like Dean. Why wouldn't he call if he was okay? He wouldn't go this many hours knowing I was waiting for him. He –"

"Sammy, don't do that. Don't think of all the negatives. Just keep focused on finding him."

Sam took a deep breath. "You're right."

"Okay. I'll call in an hour. Keep an eye on your cell signal; I don't want you out of touch."

"Yes, Sir." Sam said, out of habit. It had been a long time since his father issued an order, but he still fell back into the military responses he'd grown up with.

"Sam," John said, his voice soft. "It's going to be okay."

"Thanks, Dad. I hope so."

Mile after mile, town after town, Sam drove and looked for his brother. He became more dejected at each restaurant, bar, motel, garage and gas station. John became more worried – about both of his sons – with each phone call.

OOOOoOOOOO

John reached an area that Dean should have driven through and started making the same inquiries that Sam had been making all day. He was asking questions in the third small town he reached when he got a lead.

"Yeah, I remember him." said the gas station attendant, handing the picture back to John. "He stopped here for gas. I suggested he pull off the road for the night because he was headed right into that big storm. We didn't get the worst of it, but he was gonna hit it."

"Do you know if he kept going?"

"Said he was gonna take his chances until it got too bad. Said he was meeting someone. Seemed pretty happy about it."

John nodded. "Thanks." He sat behind the wheel of his truck, and considered calling Sam. He had just made a call so John decided to drive to toward the next town. He kept an eye out for Dean's car, but saw nothing. In the next small town, he made the same rounds and asked the same questions. No one remembered Dean.

John ordered a cup of coffee and settled in a corner booth of the restaurant before dialing Sam's number.

"Dad?"

"Where are you?" John asked, wearily.

"I'm not sure exactly. I –"

"Get to Lakeview. No one here saw him, but he stopped for gas about forty miles east of here in Granville."

"You didn't see his car? Was there another road he could have taken?"

"I didn't see his car and there's only one road out here."

"Dad –"

"Sam, don't. Keep your head, Son." John said, recognizing the fear in Sam's voice.

"I just passed a sign. I'm thirty-five miles from Lakeview."

"Good. I'm at Marie's; it's on Main Street. You can't miss it."

"I'll see you there." Sam's voice was shaking.

"Sam." John said, not wanting to end the call. "Be careful."

While waiting for Sam, John looked through the newspaper for any stories about disappearances. Old habits died hard, he thought as he turned the page.

OOOOoOOOOO

Sam held the steering wheel tightly as he drove toward Lakeview. If he lessened his grip, even just a little, his hand shook and the last thing he needed was to drive off the road. He knew last night that something was wrong. He knew that Dean's lack of communication wasn't faulty cell phone coverage. He was afraid that Dean's call last night had been him asking for help and he hated himself for not recognizing that at the time. He refused to think about the storm that had been raging outside; the storm that was too dangerous to drive in.

He thought back to after they'd killed the demon; the time he and Dean spent with their father. He had some fond memories of his childhood, but the time he spent with his family after the demon was gone was so much better. He and his father mended their relationship for the most part, and Dean finally opened up to him about so many things. He stayed with Dean to continue hunting even though it wasn't the life he really wanted. He didn't know what he wanted, other than to be with his brother.

Sam didn't need Dean's permission to leave, but that's exactly what it took to get him back in school. The transition had been hard. Harder than the first time, because their relationship had grown beyond the brotherhood of their childhood. They were friends, equals and something more. Sam realized he needed his brother; he needed his friend. He also needed to be his own person and he had to somehow find a life for himself.

But right now, he needed to find his brother.

_TBC_


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I made a wish on a shooting star AND when I blew the candles out on my birthday cake, but I still don't own anything Winchester. And, alas, I am still poor._

_A/N: This one is short, but the final chapter is right on its heels. Sort of…_

**The Storm**

**Chapter 2**

John was sitting behind the wheel of his truck when Sam parked in the spot next to his. While waiting for his son, he drove toward Granville and had only just gotten back. Even from a distance, John could see that Sam was pale.

"Sam," John hugged him, feeling something in Sam's embrace before pulling away. "You need a haircut, Son."

Sam brushed the bangs from his eyes. "Dad –"

"Come on, let's go inside. Looks like you could use some food."

"Dad, no. We have to look for Dean."

"We will. But all I've had is too much coffee and I bet the same is true for you. We're not going to do him any good if we pass out before we find him."

Reluctantly, Sam followed his father into the diner. They ordered cold sandwiches and more coffee. Sam quickly drank the water the waitress brought when they sat down.

"I drove back toward Granville after looking at today's newspaper. There were no stories in there about missing people; I asked a few questions and no one else appears to be missing. I didn't see anything, but I didn't have time to get all the way there and back."

"So we do that after we eat and maybe with two sets of eyes, we'll see something." Sam said hopefully.

OOOOoOOOOO

"I don't understand this." Sam said after they had driven the same stretch of road twice. "There's nowhere to turn off; not even any dirt roads. Where the hell is he?"

John pulled to the side of the road and turned off the engine. "I don't know. He was in Granville, but apparently didn't make it to the next town. So, something had to have happened on this road."

Sam looked around. "Unless he never made it out of Granville."

"What do you mean?"

"The gas station attendant said he stopped for gas and then kept going, but how do we know that for sure?"

"Damnit." John growled as he started the engine and headed to the gas station where Dean was last seen.

"Dad?" Sam began a few minutes later.

John glanced at him.

"We're going to find him, right?"

John looked at his younger son again. He seemed more like a scared teenager than he did a twenty-six year old law student. Just as John was proud of his sons' closeness, he sometimes wondered what would happen to one if … Sam interrupted his thought.

"I mean, because after everything we've been through, I can't lose him to something so stupid as this. We destroyed the demon, _the demon_, and – he called last night; he was probably trying to tell me he needed help –"

John reached out and laid a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Sam, don't do this. We're going to find him."

Sam turned quiet and stared out of the window intently as his father drove toward Granville, looking for anything they might have missed before. He wanted to believe his father, but something was nagging at him. He hoped it was just normal anxiety and not a premonition. They didn't always come as dreams or visions, sometimes all he had was a feeling about something.

OOOOoOOOOO

Dean opened his eyes to find he was still in a small, concrete room. There was only one window, near the top of one wall, and it was barred. Even if he had the strength, he wouldn't have been able to reach it. His head still hurt, but there wasn't the same pounding as the first time he woke up. He had no idea how long ago that was, or how long he'd been trapped in this room.

The last thing he remembered was stopping at a gas station; he didn't know the name of the town it was in. The attendant pumped the gas, while making light conversation. Normally, Dean shied away from that kind of contract with strangers, but he was excited to be seeing his brother soon and spending time with his father, so he answered the man's questions.

He recalled the man's warning to get off the road soon because a big storm was coming in from the coast, but Dean wanted to get as close to where he was going to meet Sam as he could. He hoped he would make it to the motel before the storm got too intense. He didn't remember getting into his car and couldn't help but wonder if the attendant had done something to him.

Despite his anxiety, Dean's stomach growled. He idly wondered how long it had been since he ate. He sat up on the small cot slowly, taking an inventory of the aches and pains he felt. Nothing appeared broken, but he was stiff. He wasn't surprised to find his watch and cell phone missing. The silver ring he wore on his right hand was still intact as was the charm around his neck. He wasn't happy at staggering across the room, or having to wait for a bought of dizziness to pass before he could examine the door, but he expected to find it locked anyway.

Sitting back on the cot, he looked toward the window. There was light filtering in and he could see a bit of blue sky. Obviously the storm had passed. He leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes briefly. He didn't feel well at all and thought he might have been drugged. Before he knew it, he was asleep again.

OOOOoOOOOO

John parked at the gas station and walked inside the small store, Sam close on his heels. The same man was behind the counter.

"Well, hello there." he smiled. "Have you found that young man you were looking for?"

"No, I haven't. I thought maybe I could ask you a few more questions."

The smile froze on his face, but his tone revealed nothing. "Of course, but I don't know what else I can tell you."

"Did you see him drive off?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I did. Like I said, I told him to get off the road for the night, but he insisted on going on."

"And what direction did he go?"

"East; toward Lakeview. Said he had quite a ways to go to meet someone." he smiled at Sam. "You who he was meeting?"

Sam nodded. "He's my brother."

"Ah. That make you his daddy?" he asked, turning to John.

"Yeah. So, is there any place around here he might have turned off the main road?"

"No. You must have seen there's not a whole lot between here and there. I suppose he could have turned around and come back without me seeing him. Maybe he decided to get a room after all."

"Maybe so." John said, feigning a pleasant tone. He had no doubt that as soon as they left the gas station, Sam would express his distrust for the man. Before ending the conversation, John asked a few more innocent sounding questions. He had a bad feeling about the man.

"Dad –" Sam said anxiously as they walked toward John's truck.

John waved a hand. "I know."

"We're not just going to leave –"

"We are for now."

"Dad –"

"Get in the truck, Son."

Sam saw the serious look on his father's face and opened the passenger side door.

OOOOoOOOOO

"Marilee, where are you?"

"In the kitchen, Honey."

He walked into the kitchen where his wife was frosting a cake. "Who's watching the station?"

"I locked up for a few minutes. Honey, is there something you want to tell me?"

She glanced at him. "What do you mean?"

"I think you know what I mean. Did you do it again?"

She put down the knife she was using for the frosting and looked at him. She was smiling, but there was no humor behind it. "What are you saying, Alan? What is it you think I've done?"

He stood his ground. "He has people looking for him, Marilee. His father and his brother; they're not going to give up."

Her smile broadened. "You worry too much."

_TBC_


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: I made a wish on a shooting star AND when I blew the candles out on my birthday cake, but I still don't own anything Winchester. And, alas, I am still poor._

_A/N: Well here we are at the end already. It's not a long story, but I put as much effort into this one as some of the longer tales. The idea came to me, but it resisted allowing itself to be put on paper… so to speak. I still have a few days of break from school, but I'm going back to work on Monday so you never know what might happen. _

_Thanks to everyone who has read this and especially to those who have left comments. I hope the ending is satisfying enough. I'm thinking it's time for me to do a more Dean-centric story again… _

**The Storm**

**Chapter 3**

"Now what?" Sam asked. It wasn't easy, but John found a place to hide the truck so they could watch the gas station undetected. They saw Alan drive away and took the opportunity to do a quick search of the station. "There's nothing here."

John nodded his agreement. "Let's get to the truck before he gets back. Maybe we can find where he went."

Just as they reached the truck, Alan drove by. After waiting until he'd parked and gone into the station, John and Sam walked the short distance to the street Alan had come from. It turned out to be a long driveway with a couple of storage sheds on either side and a house at the end. John continued to the house while Sam examined the sheds. They were locked and appeared not to have been opened in some time, judging by the rust on the locks. John carefully looked into the windows of the house and saw a woman, about his own age, putting a cake into a large plastic carrier. He watched as she filled a container with soup from a large pot on the stove and set it on the table. He had the oddest feeling that she knew he was there.

"What did you see?" Sam asked as John rejoined him at the closest storage shed.

"A woman, I assume Alan's wife." John said. "She was in the kitchen being domestic."

"Something doesn't feel right." Sam commented.

John looked at him. "Do you have anything more specific?"

Sam shook his head. "No. Just a feeling."

"Yeah. I had the feeling the woman in the kitchen knew I was watching her."

"What do we do now?"

"We could push our way inside, which would probably end badly. Or we can find out who these people are."

"Do you think Dean is here?"

"I don't know." John put a hand on Sam's shoulder. "But I think there's something going on. Let's get into town."

OOOOoOOOOO

Dean woke up; again not sure how long he'd been asleep. Hearing the door being unlocked, he sat up, grateful not to suffer a wave of dizziness. He was surprised to see an older woman come through the door. She was carrying a tray with various containers on it.

"You're awake. Good." she smiled. "You're probably hungry."

Dean watched as she put the tray on the floor and turned to look at him. "How do you feel?"

He tried to move, but felt like he was glued to the bed. "What have you done to me? Where am I?"

"You're home." she said pleasantly. "I made you some soup. There's also water, coffee, and some bread. You don't want to eat too much too quickly."

"How are you holding me on this cot?"

"You ask a lot of questions. Maybe you should just eat your soup." she paused just inside the door. "I'll be back later."

OOOOoOOOOO

Sam and John found a small library in town, but it was all they needed. While John scoured past issues of the local newspaper, Sam went to the only motel in town to make sure his brother had not been seen there. He also checked the bar across the street from the motel. One thing about small towns; they were easy to search.

"Find anything?" Sam asked, joining John back at the library.

"Take a look at this." John handed him a single piece of paper. It was a microfiche print-out of a news story. "See this woman?"

Sam looked at the grainy picture and nodded, looking at his father expectantly.

"That's the woman I saw in the kitchen."

Sam looked at the page again, then turned his attention back to his father. "Can't anything normal ever happen to us? Does it always have to be supernatural?"

John shrugged. "I guess we need to go back to the gas station."

OOOOoOOOOO

Alan saw John and Sam park outside the gas station and he wished he was anywhere but here. They looked determined as they got out of the truck and walked through the door. He pasted on his best smile.

"Any luck?"

Sam and John discussed their strategy on the way from the library and agreed that they didn't have time to be subtle. They didn't know how Alan fit into what was going on, but Sam's instinct told him that they could get Alan on their side.

"We went to your house a little while ago. I looked through the kitchen window and saw a woman." John put the printed newspaper story on the counter and pointed to the picture. "This woman."

Alan went pale. "You must be mistaken."

"I don't think so." John said, staring at him. "Now I don't have time for long explanations, but let me assure you that I have some experience with what's going on here. A lot of experience, actually. I think you – or this woman – has my son, and I want him back."

Alan started to tremble. "How can you know what's going on here?" he whispered.

"According to your wife's obituary here, she died of cancer three years ago. I saw her in your kitchen. That means she's either a spirit or she was brought back. Which is it?"

"Oh my God."

Sam was standing just behind John and becoming very frustrated. Before John could stop him, Sam had Alan by the throat, pushed up against the wall behind the counter.

"Sam!"

"Where is my brother?" Sam demanded.

"Sam, let him go!" John jumped behind the counter and tried to pull Sam away from the other man. "Sam!"

Sam allowed John to pull him away from Alan, who dropped to the floor gasping for breath.

"I suggest you end this now." John said, nearly snarling.

"Don't you think I would if I could? This isn't what I wanted. This is never what I wanted." Alan sobbed.

"Right now I don't give a damn what you wanted." John said angrily, a hand still on Sam's chest. "All I want is my son. So, I suggest you tell me what's going on."

Alan slowly made his way to his feet; he refused to look at the Winchesters.

"Marilee didn't want to die. She fought it from the time she was first diagnosed. She underwent the treatment the doctors recommended and searched everywhere for other answers." he said, his voice strained. "In the middle of the night, she disappeared. She left me a note saying she would be back, but had to check out some information she'd found. When she came home a week later, she looked younger than she had when the treatment started and I thought she'd somehow found a cure. She wouldn't tell me where she'd been or what information she found. And then she started getting sick again. She'd been off the chemo for a while and the doctors wanted to start it up again. I was surprised when she refused, but she told me that it was okay. I didn't know what she meant; I thought she'd made her peace and she didn't tell me anything different."

John and Sam watched as he slowly sat down on a stool behind the counter. John had not taken his hand from Sam's chest and could feel the tension coming from his son.

"Go on." John said.

Alan leaned on the counter. "She died. She wanted a home funeral with just her closest friends, but that was still most of the town, and her body was in the living room for almost twenty-four hours before she was put into the ground. I didn't think anything about it at the time, but there was a woman I didn't recognize at the house most of the day. I figured it was someone Marilee had met in treatment or something. I never talked to her; every time I would try, she would just kind of disappear."

He stopped talking and looked toward the window. Just as John was about to prompt him again, he continued with his story. "Three days later, there was a storm. It was just after midnight, but I was awake and sitting in the living room. I guess I hadn't gotten used to her being gone yet. Then all of a sudden, she was back. She just walked in the front door like she was supposed to be there."

"The woman at the funeral –"

Alan nodded. "Marilee told me she was some kind of witch or something and was able to bring people back. I wasn't thinking right at the time. I was just happy to have my Marilee back. I knew it was wrong, but I didn't care. And things were fine for a while."

He looked at John, as if he expected to see compassion in the man's eyes. When all he got was a steely glare, he looked away. "Of course she couldn't go into town, but you've seen our place. People mostly come here to see me and I don't get a lot of visitors at the house. It's private. But then –"

"Then what?" Sam asked, furiously.

"We had a son. He died in a bus accident. Marilee never really got over his death, and now, whenever there's a bad storm –" he began to cry again. "A young man shows up at our house and becomes David for a while."

"What do you mean _becomes_?" John asked.

"Somehow she makes them believe they're our son. It doesn't last, though, and it kind of makes the boys crazy."

"Take me to my son." John growled. "Now."

"It's not that easy. Marilee; she's powerful. I don't know how to stop her."

"We do." John said. "And it will be permanent."

Alan's expression was a mixture of sadness and relief.

OOOOoOOOOO

His eyes opened, but he didn't immediately know where he was. He almost recognized the sports posters on the walls, the desk across the room and the shelf of trophies near the door. He sat up slowly, feeling a vague wave of nausea pass through him. He heard a knock on the door just before it opened.

"Hello, Sleepy Head." the woman smiled as she stuck her head in the room. "I know you had a late night, but you shouldn't sleep the day away."

She walked all the way into the room and opened the curtain covering the only window in the room. He could see nothing but trees outside.

"Your father is closing the station early today so we can all have an early dinner together. I baked you a birthday cake."

She stood in the center of the room, hands on her hips, and smiled. "Why don't you get up and take a shower, David? I've got some food for you in the kitchen."

He watched her walk out of the room and a moment later, he tossed the covers off and stood up. Looking around the room again, his eyes settled on the shelf that held the trophies and he moved closer. They were all for baseball; apparently high school and college. He had a fuzzy memory of being on a baseball field, but he couldn't remember anything clearly.

The sound of singing floated into the bedroom and he felt dizzy. There was something familiar about the sound, but also something not right. He hoped the shower would help to clear his head.

OOOOoOOOOO

"What's the plan?" Sam asked, trying to stay calm as John looked through the weapons he still kept in the back of his truck. Old habits really did die hard, he decided, although he had added some to the locker before leaving home.

"I think we need to get Dean out of there first and then deal with the missus."

"What if she's already convinced him he's her son?"

John shrugged. "Let's just hope that hasn't happened yet."

"How do we stop her if she's not a spirit? If, somehow, her body was brought back to life?"

"You know the answer to that. A sliver bullet will probably do the trick. Decapitation, for sure." John handed Sam a couple different knives and a rifle. They looked each other in the eye.

"It's been a long time since we've been on a hunt together." Sam said, feeling an odd sense of pleasure.

John put a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Let's go get your brother."

OOOOoOOOOO

After showering, he dressed in unfamiliar clothes he found in the closet of the room he assumed was his. He was starting to feel more at home, but his memories were still fuzzy.

"Feel better, David?" she asked as he walked into the kitchen.

A rush of feelings flowed through him and, for a moment, everything around him blurred. He fell into a kitchen chair and opened his eyes when she put a glass in front of him.

"Have some water, Sweetheart. Maybe you shouldn't go out with your friends until all hours of the night anymore. Looks like you're suffering from quite the hangover." she smiled sweetly, as if unaware of his reaction only a moment ago.

"Yeah, I guess so." he said, starting to recover.

"I made you some soup. That should help settle your stomach." she smiled and smoothed the hair on his head. "

"Thanks, Mom." he said, almost flinching at the words.

Marilee watched him for a moment, not sure why things weren't going like they were supposed to. Normally by now the boys would have David's memories, they would be David, but something wasn't quite right this time and she didn't know what it was.

"I'll be right back, David." she smiled, kissing the top of his head before leaving the kitchen.

She walked toward the front door, sensing something amiss outside. She understood how important it was to stay out of sight of people, but it had been a long time since anyone had come to the house. The entire town knew what hours the gas station was open; there was no need for anyone to look for Alan at the house this time of day.

"Hi, Honey." Alan said, trying to smile as he walked through the front door.

She looked at him, suspiciously. "What are you doing home already? David's birthday dinner won't be ready for over an hour."

"I thought I'd come home to spend time with my family." he said, not sounding at all convincing.

"What are you up to?"

"Nothing. I just –"

Marilee turned when she heard David yell out. She glared at Alan before rushing to the kitchen.

"Who are you?" David demanded, seeing two strangers in the kitchen.

"It's all right, Dean," John began calmly.

"My name is David." he said, uncertainly.

"No, it isn't. Your name is Dean Winchester and I'm your father."

There was a flash of recognition in his eyes, but it faded as soon as Marilee entered the kitchen.

"Who are you?" she spat.

John kept his eyes locked to his son's. "I'm his father."

David pulled his gaze away from John's and looked at Marilee. "Mom?"

John felt weak when his heard his son use that word, but he hid his reaction behind the wall of stoicism he'd so carefully crafted over the last twenty-six years. He tried to regain eye contact with his son, but Marilee's voice interrupted him.

"David, Honey, come over here." she said sweetly.

John watched as his son moved closer to Marilee.

"I don't know who you are, but this is my parents' house and you need to leave." David said. John knew he was trying to sound angry, but he sensed an uncertainty in his son.

"Dean," John said. "Listen to me. You know who you are. You know you're not David. I'm your father; you have a brother –"

He saw another flash of recognition in Dean's eyes.

"Stop it." Marilee hissed at John, then turned her attention to David. "Don't listen to him."

"Your brother was waiting for you at the motel." John said, as he slowly started moving toward them. He could see into the living room and saw Alan let Sam in through the front door.

"Sam." Dean whispered.

"That's right, Dean. Sam." John said quickly. He wanted to get between Marilee and his son before Sam made his move, but he was surprised when Marilee whirled around to face his younger son. He silently cursed himself for not being prepared for that.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

Dean turned around. "Sam."

"Yeah, Dean, it's me." Sam said, sounding very much younger than he was. He always hated seeing his brother injured or in any kind of pain. "How about you come over here and we'll head home?"

"He _is_ home." Marilee insisted, taking David's hand. "I don't know who you people are!"

"Dean." Sam said, locking his eyes on his brother. "Remember when I talked to you last week and I told you I didn't think I did well on that one exam? I got the grade back before I left school the other day. I wanted to surprise you so I didn't tell you before, but I got an A."

Dean put his free hand to his head, as if he was in pain.

"And remember what we talked about doing while we were at Dad's?" he went on. "We were going to make him go fishing with us; like that one time when we were kids. Remember that? You got mad because I caught a bigger fish than you did."

"Sammy?" Dean whispered, ripping his hand out of Marilee's and putting it on his head.

As Dean fell to the floor, John rushed forward and grabbed the woman, pushing her against the cabinets. Sam ran into the kitchen and pulled his brother into the living room.

"Get him out of here, Sam!" John yelled. "And watch out for Alan, I don't know where he went."

Marilee was stronger than John expected and she was able to free herself from his grip. He heard Sam yelling a warning to him, but he couldn't focus on it as Marilee lunged forward with a butcher knife she had taken from the counter behind her. He heard another voice yelling, but couldn't place it as he was struggling to stay away from Marilee's blade. He yelled for Sam to take Dean outside, hoping he would get the upper hand in the fight and afraid of what seeing Marilee hurt might do to him.

Sam pulled Dean to his feet and helped him out the front door. He heard his father yelling inside and the high-pitched wail of someone he didn't think was Marilee. Quickly settling his brother in a chair on the front porch, Sam ran back inside. He stopped at the kitchen door when he saw Marilee's head on the floor near the sink and her body draped over his father's legs as he tried to get up off the floor. Alan was standing over them, an axe high over his head. Sam was about to rush him, when the axe fell to the floor and he sunk to his knees.

John pushed the body off of his lap and got to his feet, moving to Sam's side as Alan sobbed over his dead wife. He put a hand on Sam's back and whispered for him to go take care of his brother while he dealt with the situation in the kitchen.

OOOOoOOOOO

"Dean?" Sam knelt in front of his brother. Dean leaned over in the chair, his head nearly on his lap. Sam reached out and touched him gently. "Dean?"

Dean slowly looked at his brother. "Sam?"

"You back with me?"

Dean nodded slowly.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, other than a hellacious headache. Dad?"

"Don't worry, he's fine."

"I really want to get out of here."

Sam smiled at him. "I know, we'll be on the road soon."

OOOOoOOOOO

"If you weren't involved in the kidnappings," John began as he helped Alan clean up the mess in the kitchen, "why did you try to get Dean to spend the night?"

"Because he'd have been safe from Marilee. The bus wreck happened a few miles west of town and that's where she was able to get her – victims. It happened in a storm, she came back in a storm." Alan shrugged. "Look, I'll take care of the rest of this. Why don't you take your sons home?"

"Any idea where my son's car is?"

"There's a garage out back of the house. There's a path through the woods and a road leading away from the garage that goes to the highway. There are rose bushes growing near the entrance of the path. The keys are in it." Alan paused as John walked to the door. "Mr. Winchester, I'm sorry about all this."

John only nodded. "You should burn the body." he said before joining his sons on the porch. Dean was still sitting in the chair, Sam in the one across from him, their knees practically touching.

"How are you feeling?" John asked, putting a hand on Dean's shoulder.

"Better, but my head still hurts."

"You'll probably start feeling even better when we get out of here. Alan told me where your car is; why don't you go with Sam in the truck and I'll meet you?"

OOOOoOOOOO

It took a few days for Dean to recover from his ordeal with Marilee. It brought up some long-repressed feelings about his own mother, but he was well past the need to keep everything inside and had a long talk with John. It was probably a very long overdue talk that they both walked away from feeling better.

John had found Dean's watch and cell phone in his car; Sam asked him about the phone call during the storm, but Dean remembered nothing about it.

Sam's vacation went by too fast and he was sorry to have to leave his family. They made plans to spend Christmas together and knowing there would be many phone calls between now and then made it easier for him to go back to school.

"You sure you don't want to stay the night?" Sam asked when Dean pulled up in front of his apartment building.

"Nah, thanks. It's still early and I can make some good time."

"Where are you going?"

"There's something in Wyoming I want to check out."

"You'll be careful?"

"Sure. I'm always careful."

Sam got out of the car and Dean followed carrying his brother's duffle bag.

"Try not to get kidnapped by any crazy reanimated bodies this time, okay?" Sam joked.

Dean smirked. "Bite me, College Boy."

Sam smiled at the nickname that used to annoy him. "Hey, Dean? I –"

"Yeah, me, too kiddo." Dean smiled as he pulled him into a brotherly embrace.

"Call me later!" Sam called after him as Dean got into the car.

Dean waved. They spent a moment staring at each other, then Dean finally pulled away from the curb. Sam watched until the Impala turned the corner before going inside. He always felt a little lonely after parting from his family, but it was an okay feeling because he knew he would see them again.

Watching Sam on the porch until he turned the corner, Dean already missed his brother.

He had some residual feelings from his time with Marilee. Even though his mother had been gone for nearly thirty years, and he hadn't gotten the chance to know her that well because he was so young when she died, he still missed her. His few memories had been reinforced by his father over the years and he knew that anyone John Winchester loved had to be a special person. He decided that after checking out the gig in Wyoming, he would make another trip to Oregon to spend time in a place he was more and more considering to be home. And, maybe on the way, he'd stop off to spend a few days with Sam.

_Fin_


End file.
